Hope and Holiday Cheer
by CandyRain
Summary: Post 4.10. Brenda works a little Christmas magic . . . . Rated T for some mild language.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I don't own The Closer or these characters. This is just a little holiday fun I wanted to share with my friends at TCF.

Merry Christmas!

To: TCF

From: RubyC AKA CandyRain

For the first three years she'd lived in LA, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had walked into her Parker Center squad room on the Monday after Thanksgiving and found it teeming with bursts of holiday cheer. A small, shabby bush of a faux Christmas tree would twinkle on Lieutenant Provenza's otherwise uncluttered desk. Across the room, a tiny porcelain angel had occupied one corner of Sergeant Gabriel's desk. Lieutenant Tao's computer screensaver had featured a dancing Santa and two acrobatic elves. A garland with holly berries and matching red bows had clung to the edge of Detective Daniels' desk, a sprig of mistletoe had been suspended by fishing wire over Detective Sanchez's chair, and a smirking Grinch bobble head doll had shared Lieutenant Flynn's workspace. Not this year. This year, the squad room had looked the same on December 1st as it had on November 26th. Brenda had known that her people were different this year, changed. She had noticed the lack of laughter and the stilted conversations and had hoped that things would get better as the holidays approached, but they hadn't. Now, more than a week into December, the decorations still had not come, and Brenda had stopped hoping that they would.

Sitting back in her chair, Brenda nibbled on the tip of a ballpoint pen as she scanned her squad room through the open blinds of her office. Her eyes landed on Provenza where he sat writing at his desk. Days after Thanksgiving, the Lieutenant had suffered a severely sprained wrist while attempting to subdue a suspect. Rather than take the suggested medical leave, he had grudgingly accepted a temporary desk assignment but remained visibly dissatisfied with the lack of activity. She saw the bitterness in his face as he glowered at the retreating forms of Tao and Flynn as they exited the room on their way to interview a witness in East LA. Just as the two men reached the door, Tao stopped suddenly and dashed back to his desk. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small English-Spanish dictionary and slipped it into his pocket. Brenda saw him frown slightly as he looked over his shoulder to Sanchez's empty desk before turning and heading back out the squad room door. As he crossed the threshold, Tao nodded to Gabriel who was entering the room. The younger man's eyes darted towards Daniels' desk as he passed. Brenda continued to watch as Gabriel pretended to be engrossed in the file he carried when Daniels turned her head towards him. She shook her head silently as she watched the two emit simultaneous sighs as one sank into his chair and the other turned back to her computer screen.

Brenda finally turned away as her phone rang. "Chief Johnson," she spoke into the receiver.

"Hi, Brenda Leigh," came the familiar drawl of her mother, Willie Ray Johnson.

"Hi, Mama. How are you?"

"I'm fine, honey. I just called to tell you I found the perfect florist for the wedding."

Brenda closed her eyes and took a deep breath before responding. "Mama, I told you Fritz and I have everything under control. You don't nee—"

"But Brenda, it's just the sweetest thing. I got your Cousin Maggie to help me get on the internet and we found this little flower shop out in LA that specializes in wedding flowers. It's run by these two sisters who inherited it from their grandmother, and their website says they did the flowers for that movie actress . . . oh, what's her name? You know the one who—"

"Ok, Mama. Fine, fine. What's the name of the flower shop? We'll check them out." Brenda found a pad and pen to jot down the name, address, and phone and fax numbers her mother recited to her, and then spent the next few minutes trying to steer the conversation away from centerpieces, dress fittings, and reception menus. "Well, alright. I've gotta get back to work now, Mama."

"Alright. I've gotta go finish my pies for Thelma and Hank's potluck anyway."

Brenda smiled. "I don't understand why you and Daddy even bother going to those anymore. He used to grouch about going every year."

"Well, your daddy doesn't know what's good for him. He misses being able to see his friends at work everyday since he retired. They all miss each other, but they're too stubborn to admit it and too lazy to do anything about it. So wives and children get together and arrange things for them. He may put on a show of being uninterested and inconvenienced, but you be sure, your father wouldn't miss this party and the chance to be with all his buddies again for anything. You should see them when they get together! As happy as clams and trying for all the world not to show it too much. People can't always ask for what they need, Brenda. Sometimes it's up to the rest of us to figure it out for them and make sure they get it."

Blonde curls swayed as Brenda sat up straighter in her chair. "'What they need,'" she mumbled to herself.

"What, dear?"

"Nothing, Mama," Brenda replied. "You go ahead and finish your pies. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. Bye now. Love you."

"Love you, too, Mama. Bye-bye." Brenda quickly pressed the disconnect button, and then hit the first speed-dial button on her phone. "Fritz. I was thinking . . . ."

"Now, what exactly brought on this flash of inspiration?" Fritz asked that night as he buttered a wheat roll.

"I was talking to my mother and she mentioned this Christmas party that she and Daddy go to every year since he retired. Daddy always hems and haws about how the party is just a waste of time and money, and how he'd rather not go, but today Mama was talking about how much he actually enjoys it. It just made me think it might be something for me to try. Just . . . to cheer everyone up, I guess. They all seem so _sad_ this year."

"And you think this will work?" Fritz smiled. "That they'll actually go for it?" Brenda nodded earnestly as she chewed a broccoli floret. He continued, his skepticism obvious. "Provenza? Flynn? And will we even have time with all the wedding stuff?"

Brenda swallowed. "We can stick with the potluck thing, so that will cut down on the work for us, and I know they aren't always the most cooperative or easy-going crew. They don't always handle change well, but I think I can convince them. They—_we_—need this, something fun, exciting. It's been a r– a rough year." She coughed to disguise the cause of her faltered speech, but Fritz had seen the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. He reached across the table for her hand.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

"What is this, Chief?" Flynn asked as he held up the small red envelope Brenda had handed him.

"Why don't you open it and see, Lieutenant," Brenda answered, her smile not quite big enough to be reassuring. She continued around the room handing identical red envelopes to the other members of the Major Crimes Division. She got a nod from Provenza and a smile of thanks from Daniels before Flynn spoke again.

"A potluck?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." Brenda moved on to Gabriel, then Tao.

"I don't cook," Flynn continued.

"Well, you can bring the sparkling cider. Or buy a dessert."

"Look, Chief, I'm sure this little get together of yours will be full of fun and holiday festiveness, but I don't do . . . ." He let the statement drop as he made a pained face.

"Lieutenant Flynn, I just—I, ah, I wanted to do something for you, all of you," she turned to look at the others. "It's just a little something to show you all how much I appreciate all of your hard work this year. Fritz and I are gonna provide most of the food, but I thought it might be nice if we all shared a dish that's traditional for each of us." Not sure that they were convinced, she added quickly, "My Mama's sending fudge."

Flynn still looked reluctant, "I don't—"

"Can it, Flynn!" Provenza barked. "If I can figure out a way to cook with one hand, then you can get to a bakery and pick up a damn cheesecake! He'll be there, Chief. Me, too." Provenza's pronouncement was followed by a chorus of similar responses from the rest of the squad.

Brenda beamed as Buzz walked into the squad room. "Chief, I have the transcription of that wiretap you asked for."

"Why thank you, Buzz," she took the file he held out. "I have something for you, too," she said handing him his own red envelope.


	2. Chapter 2

A week and a half later, on Friday, December 19, Brenda smoothed her hands down the knee-length skirt of her cranberry shirtdress and took a deep breath. The sleeves of her black cardigan had been pushed up, and then back down countless times in the 30 minutes since she had dressed; now, she pushed them up again. Since she had yet to pull on the black pumps that matched the cardigan and the three charcoal buttons down her front, she had to stand on tiptoe to reach the large, glass serving dish in the cabinet above her refrigerator. As she lowered the dish to the counter, she felt Fritz's hands encircle her from behind and tug playfully at the knot in the black sash at her waist. She placed her hands over his to still them, but leaned into the kiss he placed on her cheek. "That's all you get." She smiled up at him, "They're going to be here anytime now, and you're supposed to be gone already."

"I was on my way, until I caught sight of this cute blonde with killer legs in my kitchen."

Her smile widened before she gave him a quick peck on the lips, and then placed her hands on his shoulders to push him away. "Now go."

Ten minutes later, Brenda placed the dish filled with tiny spanikopita, stuffed cherry tomatoes, and baby carrots on the coffee table next to the tin of fudge her mother had sent. On her way to answer the ringing doorbell, she paused next to the door to slip her feet into a pair of black patent pumps before opening the door to Lt. Provenza. "Why Lieutenant" She exclaimed happily as he sauntered through the door, "I never would have expected you to be the first one here."

"What can I say, Chief? I do my best to keep you on your toes."

"Well, you've certainly gotten that down." She smiled as she opened the door wider to let him pass. As usual, his shirt sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled to the elbow, the one on the left rolled slightly higher to accommodate the wrist brace. His tie, blue with white stripes, was loosened slightly and the top button of his shirt undone. His navy blazer was draped over his right elbow and he carried a plastic-covered disposable casserole dish "What do we have here?" Brenda asked pointing toward the aluminum rectangle.

"Green bean casserole. Only needed one hand. Open some cans, mix them together, voila!" He handed her the casserole with a wink.

"Always the charmer, huh, Lieutenant?" Daniels called out as she made her way up the sidewalk. Confident as always, her stride was also careful as she balanced a glass-topped ceramic dish in her hands, a black clutch under one arm, and stepped over the threshold on emerald green snakeskin pumps. The shoes not only matched the silk blouse tucked into her knee-length black skirt, but also added an additional three inches to her usually petite frame.

"Just trying to suck up to the boss, Daniels. You know, since she's already in the holiday spirit in all." Provenza smiled cheekily.

"Sure," Daniels smiled. She placed a light kiss on his cheek as she passed through the door.

"Hi, Chief." This greeting was accompanied by a one-armed hug to her superior. "Thank you so much for having us."

"It's my pleasure, Detective," Brenda answered. Closing the door, she ushered her guests farther inside. "There are hors d'oeuvres in the living room. Help yourselves. I'm just going to finish setting the table."

"Can we help you with anything, Chief?" Both women turned when Provenza gave an unceremonious snort in response to Daniels' offer. He raised an eyebrow as he sank into the sofa cushions and chewed on a stuffed tomato. "Ok," Daniels chuckled, "Is there anything _I_ can do to help?"

Brenda smiled, "Sure." Once they entered the kitchen she set Provenza's casserole on the counter and pointed to the dish Daniels still held, "You can set that down anywhere."

"Actually, they need to be warmed up," Daniels responded.

"They?" Brenda asked.

Daniels smiled. "_Pasteles_. They're a kind of meat-filled pastry. It's a Puerto Rican dish. My mother's family is from San Juan."

"They smell delicious," Brenda said as she took the dish from the other woman and slid it into the oven.

The two women stood sliding wooden napkin rings onto rolled, white napkins when the doorbell rang again. Brenda's hands stilled, but Daniels moved first. "I can get it, Chief," she said reaching for her bag, "I need to get my cell from the car anyway."

Brenda continued rolling napkins as Daniels' heels clicked toward the front door. She heard the door open, and then silence. Seconds later, Gabriel's muffled voice drifted into the kitchen, then Daniels' in response. Brenda pasted on a smile and tried to push thoughts of reprimanding sulking children from her mind as Gabriel walked into the kitchen smiling cheerfully. "Sergeant!" she exclaimed feigning surprise.

"Chief," he handed her the bottle of wine that he carried, and then hugged her tightly. He smoothed his hand down his red tie, shifted the cell phone in the case at his hip, and finally rested his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. "Unless you need any help right now, I'm going to—ah walk Daniels back to her car. She parked around the corner and it's starting to get dark . . . ." His voice trailed off, but Brenda could hear the words that hadn't been spoken, the unasked question that had nothing to do with lending a hand in the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm fine here," she answered. "Go ahead." Brenda rolled her eyes in amusement as Gabriel hurried away, and crossed her fingers that looking the other way wouldn't blow up in her face, or her squad room, again. She even smiled hearing Provenza erupt into laughter as the door closed on Gabriel and Daniels.

By the time the squad's forensic accountant and aspiring politician returned, along with Buzz and Tao, Brenda had arranged the napkins at each place setting and joined Provenza in the living room. The newest arrivals placed their contributions in the kitchen, garlic mashed potatoes from Tao and three-bean salad from Buzz, and then joined the others in the living room.

"So now we're just waiting on Fritz and Lt. Flynn," Brenda called from the living room's entrance as her guests settled into seats—Buzz on the corner of the raised fireplace, Tao on the couch next to Provenza, Daniels perched at his elbow, and Gabriel in the easy chair opposite the fireplace. "Can I get anyone a drink while we wait?" She was met with an assortment of responses, and after pouring out glasses of sparkling water, wine, and soda, then enlisting Gabriel to help her carry the tray, she returned to the living room and the squad's lively conversation.

As she eyed the clock seconds later, anticipating Fritz's arrival, Provenza followed her eyes, but misinterpreted her thoughts. "Flynn doesn't do punctual," he said. "He's worse than my 3rd wife, the flighty one. I was twenty minutes late for everything the entire time we were married." He grimaced at the recollection.

"That was Liz, right?" Buzz asked with a chuckle. It was an attempt to maneuver the Lieutenant into yet another story about one of his exes. Everyone else turned toward Provenza, eager for yet another dose of humor in the form of his tales of matrimonial horror. Brenda settled herself on the fireplace next to Buzz and sipped her wine as Provenza launched into an account of one particularly disastrous Christmas with "the flighty one."

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang a third time, and Brenda opened the door to see Lt. Flynn, a pink bakery box in one hand and a green, foil-topped bottle in the other. "I brought dessert _and_ cider," he smiled smugly.

"How nice of you, Lt." She took the box and lifted the lid to peek at the chocolate-frosted layer cake topped with strawberries and chocolate kisses. "Really, very nice of you!"

"I thought you'd like that," he said with a satisfied smirk.

"Look who's here, y'all," she said closing the door and leading him into the living room.

"It's about time, Flynn!" Provenza shouted good-naturedly.

"Sorry, guys," Flynn responded. "Traffic. But I'm here now, we can start the party." Everyone chuckled at his dry delivery.

Minutes later, as Gabriel finished telling them all how he'd spent one Christmas Eve in a hospital emergency room after falling out of a tree and breaking his arm in an attempt to "catch" Santa, Flynn spoke up, "So really, when are we eating? What's the hold up?" Provenza threw a carrot stick at him, and Daniels rolled her eyes before turning back to her conversation with Tao.

"We're waiting on Fritz, too." Brenda responded. "He should—" Brenda stopped at the sound of keys in the lock. "Here he is now." She tried to contain her excitement as she waited for the lock to turn and the door to open. The squad shouted a host of greetings to Fritz as he passed through the door, and then a hush fell over the room as they all caught sight of the man entering the door behind him.

He stood just inside the door, grinning triumphantly and resting part of his weight on the wooden cane in his right hand. In his left he carried two small, green gift bags. Tao and Provenza reacted first. They stood and made their way to the door, before the others had even left their seats. "Julio!" Tao exclaimed, patting his friend on the back exuberantly. "I thought you weren't leaving rehab until next week."

"I wasn't supposed to, but the Chief talked them into letting me out a few days early. Something about 'good behavior.'" Sanchez chuckled then nodded toward Brenda and smiled.

Provenza grinned and shook Sanchez's hand excitedly. "You look good, Sanchez!"

"I feel good, Lieutenant," Sanchez replied. "I've got another couple of weeks before I can drive again, so Agent Howard had to give me a ride, but the doctor says I can come back to work right after New Year's. I'll be on desk duty for a while, but it'll be good to be back."

"Desk duty isn't so bad," Provenza said holding up his wrist with a shrug and a wink.

Soon the others joined in the hugs and well wishes. Brenda remained seated, however, watching her people reunite with their friend and colleague. During Sanchez's stay in the hospital, and then in an in-patient physical rehabilitation facility, they had all called, e-mailed, and visited, but because of limited visiting hours, work schedules, and various other obligations, there hadn't been an opportunity for them all to visit at the same time. Now for the first time since the September shooting, they were all together. The effect was powerful and immediate, and Brenda was content to watch and enjoy. Fritz eased his way around the group clustered in the foyer and sat down beside Brenda, his around her waist.

They both joined in the laughter that erupted as Daniels pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the bag Sanchez handed to her. "You do realize I'd have to kick your ass for this if you weren't already injured?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," he smiled. He turned his cheek toward her and patted it expectantly. To her credit, Daniels held out a full four seconds before she raised the mistletoe above his head and obliged him with a peck on the cheek.

"I didn't forget you, Chief," Sanchez said, ambling towards her and handing her the second bag.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she laughed upon finding another tiny bundle of green and white foliage. She stood and gave Sanchez another chaste kiss on the cheek. Then she turned to the others, "Who's ready to eat?" The chorus of affirmatives were all the motivation she needed to lead them all to the dining table for what would be hours of food, conversation, and celebration.

Three days later, when Brenda walked into her squad room she smiled. Once again, Provenza's tree sat atop his desk. Gabriel's angel and Tao's screensaver were there, too, along with the other's decorations. And though he wouldn't return to work for another two weeks, someone had even hung mistletoe over Sanchez's desk. This time, when Brenda sat down at her desk she sighed from contentment, rather than concern, before reaching into her bag for a Frosty the Snowman snow globe, shaking it giddily, and reclining in her chair to watch the "snow" fall.

The End


End file.
